


The Mystical Wonders of a Cinnamon Cruller

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Bisexual Negan (Walking Dead), Bisexual Rick Grimes, Carl Grimes is a Little Shit, Coach Negan (Walking Dead), M/M, Michonne and Rick are best friends, Negan (Walking Dead) Swears, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Negan has feelings, One Shot, Rick is so done with Negans bs, Sheriff Rick Grimes - Freeform, Sick Character, Sick Fic, Stoner Carl Grimes, established casual relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 04:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19041148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rick’s phone is vibrating again , the fifth time in the past ten minutes. Michonne takes a sip of her coffee and waits. Rick looks at her sheepishly as he awkwardly fishes his phone out of his pocket to decline the call.“You know Rick, you may as well just answer it. Whoever’s calling you doesn’t seem like they’re going to stop.” Michonne rests her head in her hands and sighs. She looks absolutely exhausted. After a long night dealing with Carl’s teen angst bullshit Rick know he does too.





	The Mystical Wonders of a Cinnamon Cruller

**Author's Note:**

> I hope someone enjoys this. It’s a wee bit rushed but I wanted to put something out for this pairing.

Rick’s phone is vibrating _again_ , the fifth time in the past ten minutes. Michonne takes a sip of her coffee and waits. Rick looks at her sheepishly as he awkwardly fishes his phone out of his pocket to decline the call.

  
  


“You know Rick, you may as well just answer it. Whoever’s calling you doesn’t seem like they’re going to stop.” Michonne rests her head in her hands and sighs. She looks absolutely exhausted. After a long night dealing with Carl’s teen angst bullshit Rick know he does too.

  
  


After the breakup they’d decided to stay close, jointly because Michonne is the only mother figure Judith’s ever known and because they still genuinely enjoy each others company. Rick’s romantic failings aside, Michonne will always be  his best friend. His unpredictable work schedule makes this cafe meeting the first time they’ve gotten a chance to catch up in a while. That’s probably why he feels so damn guilty about ruining it with the incessant buzzing of his phone.

  
  


“Michonne. I came here to be with you. I’ll put it on do not disturb here wait a second-”

  
  


“You _really_ want to do that Rick? Michonne muffles a laugh with her shirtsleeve.

  
  


“Probably not the safest idea.” Rick concedes, thinking about the overly anxious teenage babysitter he’d left Judith and Carl  with. He lays his phone on the table, face down, and prays to god that the man calling takes the hint. “How’s work going?”

  
  


“Oh Rick why’d you have to remind me!” Michonne grimaces.

  
  


“Look on the bright side. It’s almost the end of the year! You’ve got a long summer with no gangly teenagers in sight.” Rick leans over her chair to massage her back frowning at all the knots that have built up there in his absence.

  
  


“Except for Carl. I’m sure he’ll be hanging around. I miss your massages.” She smiles.

  
  


“No reason you have to.” Rick tells her. “Come over anytime and I’ll give you one. Two dollars a minute.” Michonne rolls her eyes. “What! It’s a bargain!” He teases.

  
  


“It’s exam season. Worst time of the year. I’ve got kids who’ve sat on their phones watching Netflix the entire semester _begging_ for extra credit.  Naturally everyone’s complaining about the length of the review packet. But if I went without giving them one they’d be whining about how I didn’t prepare them. And as per usual Negan's egging them on! Talking about how no one’s going to use redox reactions in the real world.” She rolls her eyes.

  
  


“And they’re gonna use ping pong?”

  
  


“That’s what I told him!” Michonne slides further down into her seat. “That man doesn’t know when to be quiet.” Right on cue Rick’s phone starts buzzing. _Isn’t that the truth_ he thinks as he flips his phone around to confirm the caller ID. The waiter brings their sandwiches and Rick digs in to his, trying his best  to listen attentively while Michonne fills him in on what Daryl’s been up too on his month long backpacking trip through the Appalachians.

  
  


There’s a short buzz. And then another. Over and over until the individual tones fade into an overlapping hum of ten thousand angry honey bees.

  
  


“How’s work Rick?” Michonne asks, willfully ignoring the cacophony coming from his cellphone.

  
  


“Fine I guess.” He frowns, distracted. “We caught the teenagers spray painting genitalia on the town hall. But that’s pretty much it.”

  
  


“Not exactly very CSI Miami then?” Michonne jokes.

  
  


“I’ve got to use the bathroom.” Rick excuses himself rushing to the men’s, phone in hand. He pushes past a crowd of guys at the sinks and ducks into a stall before leaning against the wall,

so irritated he can barely think straight. The messages are _still_ rolling in. Clearly Negan doesn’t like being ignored. And he’s one hell of a spam texter.

  


_Negan: Hey babe._

_Negan: Rick._

_Negan: Rickkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk_

_Negan: I know you got your weirdass hangout with the ex tonight but this is important._

_Negan: pick up the phone._

_Negan: Jesus Christ._

_Negan: Pretty please?_

_Negan: I need you to come over._

_Negan: I’m not trying to ruin your date._

_Negan: swear to god._

_Negan: I’ve even been reading that book you gave me. The one about how to be less of an attention whore? I promise I’m taking it to heart._

_Negan: I know you’re seeing these asshole._

_Negan: this is life or death Rick._

_Negan: seriously!!_

_Negan: I need your help._

  
  


_Rick: This had better be important Negan._

  
  


_Negan: it is! I took home the rest of the baked goods from the powderpuff football sale._

  
  


_Rick: That’s nice Negan. Get to the point._

  
  


_Negan: They were just gonna throw them out! Perfectly viable dozen count boxes of Krispy Kremes! I couldn’t stand by and watch those puppies go to waste. It would have been immoral. You get that right Rick?_

  
  


_Rick: This justifies you ruining my monthly data plan how exactly?_

  
  


_Negan: I ate a fuckload of donuts plus three blueberry cream puffs and now I can’t move._

_Negan: can you swing by Walmart and bring me pepto bismol?_

  


_Rick: You are such a manchild!_

_Rick: First of all, what on EARTH made you think eating that much in one sitting was a good idea!_

_Rick: secondly the fact that you expect me to drop everything in my life to come mother you every time you do something idiotic is ridiculous._

  
  


_Negan: But you will anyways right?_

_Negan: Rick I’m not shitting you I’m laying on my bathroom floor in the fetal position like a goddamn pussy right now._

_Negan: I don’t have anyone else. Arats on some caribbean cruise and Simon would mock me._

  
  


_Rick: Bold of you to assume that I won’t be mocking you._

  


_Negan: so you’ll come ??_

  


_Rick: You’ve been blowing up my phone for the past hour. The evening is already ruined. I hope you’re proud of yourself._

  


_Negan: thank you darling_

_Negan: I’ll try not to die before you get here._

  


When Rick gets back to their table Michonne is sitting behind already stacked boxes of leftovers. He’s not positive but he’s pretty sure she’s falling asleep sitting up. Poor thing.

  


“I already paid the check.” Michonnes tells him eyes still half  closed.

  
  


“Michonne...I’m sorry. There’s something I have to take care of.” She shakes her head.

  
  


“Don’t apologize Rick. I need to get home anyways. Grade some quizzes. Drink a lot of wine-”

  
  


“Get some sleep?” He finishes for her.

  
  


“You know me so well.” She smiles. “And when you want to tell me what the _hell_ is going on I’ll be here for you.”

  
  


“I know you will.” Rick assures her. “We’ll make movie plans with the group next week.”

  
  


“Daryl gets back Wednesday!” She reminds him as he leaves, half a Cuban sandwich tucked under his arm. Rick hurries through the parking lot to his truck. It’s chilly for may, he thinks as he turns the heater up.

  


_Negan: ETA?_

  


Rick lays his head on the steering wheel and resists the urge to scream. Instead, he pulls out unto the road and takes the fastest route to the local Walmart.

  
  


He’d officially met Negan during open house at Carl’s school. It had been weird to finally have a face to the name after years of Michonne’s  ranting about the disrespectful tyrant of a P.E teacher but he hadn’t really thought much about him until the first controversy. You’d think a teacher who made constant references to his _balls_ in a gym full of fifteen year olds would have been sacked by now but three full fledged parent petitions later and Negan was as employed as ever. On some level Rick had been impressed. But outwardly? He had made it quite clear he’d disapproved of the man's relaxed approach to teaching and constant infusion of personal opinions. It wasn’t like his “not giving a single shit about the administration's rules” attitude was doing Carl or any of the other kids in his classes any favors. Quite the opposite.

  
  


A couple weeks after Michonne had ended things with him Rick had gotten the mind to go out drinking. Carol has been kind enough to offer to take the kids to her place for the night. Henry got along with Judith and Carl despite the age gap so they had been happy enough to have a sleepover. He’d just been grateful for a chance to have time away from how hollow the home felt without Michonne in it.

  
  


Rick bar hopped for a while. He sat people watching from a stool in the corner until he’d gotten drunk enough to work up the confidence to go to a club. It was geared towards a younger crowd, the crush of bodies on a dance floor combined  with music loud enough to blow out your eardrums something Rick hadn’t experienced since his college days with Lori. He wasn’t sure how much he ended up drinking, only that he was drunk enough not to recognize the handsome older man he’d sloppily made out with on the darkened dance floor. That is, until they’d gone careening into a bathroom stall. It was there in the fluorescent lighting that his mistake had been laid bare.

  
  


“Holy shit.” Negan had laughed as Rick stood there completely mortified. “You’re Carl’s straightedge dad! Goddamn! I didn’t think someone with a stick so far up their ass could let loose like you just did!”

  
  


“Please just don’t talk about this.” Rick had groaned.

  
  


“You must be at a low point to get all the way out here! Pretty far from suburbia isn’t it. Lost that gorgeous chemistry teacher? Or are you just cheating on her? think pretty highly of myself but if you are _christ_ am I a downgrade. Not worth it Mr. Grimes, trust me I’ve been through it.”

  
  


“We broke up.” Negan had been leaning against the stalls door blocking the only exit, he perked up a little at the revelation. Rick had _seriously_ debated crawling under the stall and into the next one just to escape further humiliation.

  
  


“Just how much did you drink Mr. Grimes?” Negan teased and Rick just turned away facing the filthy club toilet.

  
  


“Not enough to forget this, unfortunately.” Rick mumbled.

  
  


“No need to be a dick about it. You’re the one who grabbed me. Very _firmly_ if I remember correctly” Negan chuckled. “Anyways I’m not opposed to being the rebound how about you give me your number? We can meet up once you’re a little more sober.”

  
  


“Thank you but I’ll think I’ll pass.” Rick waved him off.

  
  


“Y’all want to find a better place to negotiate relationship arrangements. Some of us have to piss.” A deep voice had said from outside the stall. Negan had turned and marched out of the stall confident grin on his face, giving the bathroom line a playful wave as he went. Rick had stumbled out behind him cheeks furiously red refusing to look at anything but the bathroom tile floor.

  
  


By the time Rick made it back to the dance floor Negan was nowhere to be seen. Rick had thanked the gods of every major world religion and made his quiet escape out the back door.

  
  


He had managed to convince himself nothing would come of their fever dream nightclub encounter until two weeks later when his phone rang. A call from his son, something Rick didn’t get too many of these days. Only when Rick picked up the phone the deep voice on the other end was decidedly _not_ Carl.

  
  


“Hey Mr. Grimes!” The gym teacher had drawled.

“My apologies for interrupting what I’m sure is a very busy workday for you, but I just had to tell you something about your son Carl! Now I don’t know if you know this officer but your son has a smoking habit. Not those fucking electronic ones the kids are going apeshit over these days. No. Your son has a penchant for grass. Little bit of Mary Jane. _Ganja_ , the devils lettuce if you know what I mean” Rick can hear the snickering of the entire gym class in the background. “Now I caught your son and his stoner girlfriends Enid and Lydia sitting out behind the locker room passing a blunt! And do you know what I told them Mr. Grimes? How about you guess. Keep it PG because you’re on speaker phone.”

  
  


“I don’t know Negan.” Rick said tiredly.

  
  


“Your boy was scared shitless! I told him I’m not gonna tell your dad this time. Told him I knew how having strict parents was. Made him swear I wouldn’t catch him at it again. And swore to me he did but guess where I found him today Mr. Grimes! Smoking with his gals when he’s supposed to be running fucking laps! So I told him give me your phone and we’ll have a public execution! I got the whole class sitting on the field waiting for your punishment! Give us a spectacle!”

  
  


“I’m not going to give y’all a show.” Rick frowned hoping the class could hear how close he was to losing his shit. “You call the office and send Carl over and we’ll have a nice long talk in _private_.”

  
  


“You’re no fun Mr. Grimes.” Negan complained.

  
  


“Thank you for your concern.” Rick had grumbled before hanging up. Negan took the situation as an opportunity to send himself Rick’s phone number. Rick grounded Carl an extra week just for that.  

  
  


Still at some point Rick had texted back and they’d fallen into a reluctant rhythm. Rick still hasn’t told a soul. He knows it isn’t healthy, to keep something that has become such a big part of his life bottled up. He does it anyways. At first they’d just been physical but slowly they’d grown to be something close to friends. Negan helped Rick get over Michonne, Rick tried his best at helping Negan with his anger issues, and with creampuff indigestion apparently.

  


There’s something a bit otherworldly about an empty Walmart parking lot at eleven at night. Rick parks his truck and jogs past abandoned shopping carts and into the superstore. He picks up extra strength pepto bismol and decides on ginger ale for a last resort home cure. The teenager at the checkout tries to make conversation as Rick slouches over the register with his hands in his pockets wishing he was doing anything else but this.

  
  


He pulls up in front of Negan's building about twenty minutes later. He lives in a factory that’s been converted to decent sized apartments. Rick sneaks up the back like he always does and climbs the five flights of stairs to the penthouse. He knocks on the door and stands waiting for a minute before doing it again. Still no answer. Rick tries the handle and it opens inward.

  
  


“Negan!” He calls strolling through the living room, his voice echoing off the industrial metal ceilings.  He passes through the kitchen staring pointedly at the empty donut boxes laying on the counter.

  
  


“My knight in shining armor.” He hears from the bathroom. Rick smiles a bit at the gratitude before Negan continues. “Hurry the fuck up.”

  
  


Rick takes his sweet time walking to the bathroom and immediately regrets it when he sees Negan, cheek to the bathroom floor in nothing but a pair of banana patterned boxer briefs. He looks absolutely miserable.

  
  


“Jesus Christ.” Rick kneels next to him putting a hand to his forehead. “Sweaty, but no fever. That’s good. Are you allergic to anything in the desserts?” Negan shakes his head weakly. “It’s probably just food poisoning then.” Rick snorts “Or _maybe_ it’s because you ate more than should be humanly possible.”

  
  


“Can you help me?” Negan whimpers.

  
  


“I didn’t come all the way out here for nothing.” Rick reassures him. Negan's too big to be carried but Rick tries anyway, scooping the man off the floor by his armpits. They end up awkwardly waddling to the coach, Negan groaning in protest every time they take a step.

  
  


They flop down together on his cushioned suede couch, Rick more than a little beat from supporting 190 pounds of muscled gym teacher.

  
  


“I brought you some medicine.” Rick tells him once he’s caught his breath. “Would you like ice in your ginger ale?”

  
  


“I don’t really fucking like ginger ale.” Negan whines.

  
  


“It’s for the indigestion dumbass. Did your parents not love you?” Rick retorts.

  
  


“Maybe it's a country thing.” Negan starts to curl back up, clutching his stomach.

  
  


“It’s really not.” Rick tells him quietly reaching a hand out to rub his back. “I’m gonna go get you a pillow and some blankets. And a trash can. Just in case.”

  
  


Negan's bedroom smells like a weeks worth of unwashed sportswear. As he sidesteps the piles of discarded sweatshirts and stacks of comic books he’s reminded why they spend more time at Rick's house. Rick grabs a couple of throw pillows and a questionably stained fleece blanket and heads back to the kitchen where he rifles through Negan's cabinets brushing past a coffee mug with a red cross that reads “orgasm donor”

Real classy, he thinks to himself as he pours half the ginger ale into another (thankfully blank) mug.

  
  


Negan manages a laugh when he sees Rick trudging his way towards him balancing ginger ale, pillows, blankets, and the oversized wicker basket trash can he’d taken from the bathroom.

In some corner of his mind Rick’s glad he’s still got his sense of humor but the mockery is still frustrating.

  
  


“You can take more than one trip you know. That is allowed.” Negan points out shifting his weight so he can watch  Rick’s struggle.

  
  


“Just take the ginger ale.” Rick mumbles and Negan accepts the mug without another word. Rick sits down on the couch and pulls out the box of pepto bismol from his jeans pocket pours two tablets into his hand before handing them to Negan, who reaches out an arm and pulls Rick down to him a display of strength that isn’t consistent with a man who’s been laying on his bathroom floor in self professed agony for the past hour.

  
  


“Thank you for coming Rick.” Negan says into his  mess of curly hair.

  
  
  


“You seem better already.” Rick tells him bitterly.

  
  


“Oh I am.” Negan smiles. “Now that you’re here. I feel like I could get us another box of donuts to split.

  
  


“Please don’t.” Rick warns turning over to glare at Negan. “You shouldn’t even be able to think about food right now. Not with the amount you say you shoveled.”

  
  
  


“What you think I’m faking it?” Negan asks, indignant. “Ate myself half to death as some sort of attention seeking cry for help?”

  
  


“I wouldn’t put it beneath you.” Rick sighs only half kidding.

  
  


“How come you’re so set on seeing the absolute worst in me.” Negan grumbles, pettily shoving Rick off the couch and face first into his carpet.

  
  
  


“You haven’t exactly given me much else to work with! Ever since we’ve known each you’ve been set on _bothering_ me into compliance. Which is just what you did tonight!” Rick complains from the carpet.

  
  


“Jesus fucking christ Rick. Is that really what you think I’m trying to do? Torment you into liking me!” Negan shoots back, his voice raising to match Rick’s.

  
  


“It sure seems like it.” Rick glances at his watch. It’s already past midnight and he’s stuck 20 minutes out of his way helping a guy who doesn’t really seem like he needed the help in the first place.

  
  


“That’s not-” Negan begins, voice uncharacteristically gentle. “I wasn’t ever trying to force you-” The older man stops talking, a strange glaze overtaking his face. Then Rick realizes.

  
  


“Negan! Aim for the trash bin!” Rick shouts. But it’s already too late.

  
  


They stay still for a moment after he’s finished. Negan’s chin and chest is sticky with vomit.

  
  


“Shit.. I’m sorry. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Rick whispers and holds out an arm for Negan as they walk to the bathroom. “You’re sick. I never should have doubted that.” Rick turns a handle filling up Negans bathtub with warm water. Negan is still silent staring balefully at Rick from his perch on the edge of the toilet seat. Rick wets the edge of a washcloth and wipes him clean. There’s a bottle of bubble bath shoved in the back of Negan's medicine cabinet. Rick pours the contents into the bath looking back at Negan as the rosemary scented soap bubbles rise. “My grandma used to do this for me. When I was sick. Bubble baths always made me feel better.”

  
  


“You didn’t strike me as a bubble bath type of guy.” Negan hobbles over to the tub swirling a finger in the water to test the temperature.

  
  


“I’m full of surprises.” Rick busies himself arranging shampoo bottles on the lip of the tub.

“You get in. I’ll go grab the ginger ale.” When he returns Negans complied his stupid banana boxer briefs lay crumpled beneath the tub. He’s sunk far enough beneath the bubbles that only his head and neck are visible. Rick would laugh, if he didn’t know how uncomfortable the other man is.

  
  


He sits behind Negan squeezing a dollop of shampoo into his hands. Negan doesn’t protest as Rick washes his hair. “I’m an hour late for the babysitter now.” He remarks absentmindedly.

  
  


“You left Carl with a babysitter? Isn’t the kid sixteen?”

  
  


“Can’t trust him to watch his sister and not be breaking into the liquor cabinet. He doesn’t like having a babysitter that’s only a year older than him but it has to be done.”

  
  


“That’s cold Rick.” Negan laughs.

  
  


“Rinse.” Rick tells him and Negan sinks beneath the water, coming up for air with a contented smile.

  
  


“I meant what I told you earlier y’know. My stomach still feels like the fucking nascar grandprix track but having you here takes my mind off of it.”

  
  


“Sorry for making you overexert yourself.”

  
  


“What you mean the projectile vomit? That was f happening with or without your passive aggressive accusations. Shit wasn’t your fault. Don’t worry about it Rick. I’m sorry for making you late.”

  
  


“Do you want a massage?” Rick asks.

  
  


“That would be nice.” He sits up in the tub and Rick begins with his shoulders. Negan relaxes into Rick’s touch as he moves downward.

  
  


“You’re good at this.”

  
  
  


“Michonne thinks so too. Told me she misses my massages today. Nothing about our conversations or sex. Just the massages.”

  
  
  


“She was a lucky woman that Michonne.” Negan sighs “To get you as her proper boyfriend. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous tonight. And maybe that did play into the gluttony.”

  
  


“Subconsciously of course.” Rick teases.

  
  
  


“I know you don’t belong to me like you did to her Rick. You’re free to see whoever you want. I don’t even know. It doesn’t usually bother me thinking of my casual flings out having fun.” Negan shakes his head sadly. “There’s something different about you though. And I swear that isn’t just the sugar overdose talking.” Rick hands freeze in place, startled by his outburst. In the time they’ve been seeing each other, they haven’t talked about commitment. Rick had assumed Negan was out there sowing his oats when they weren’t together. He had tried not to let himself be bothered by that, told himself Negan wasn’t looking for anything serious, that he was ok with just being casual. If Negan didn’t feel that way though...“I mean I’m sure Michonnes told you the stories.” Negan continues. “Usually I’d be out fucking one of the substitute teachers by this time in the night. Not since I met you though. Haven’t been able to think about much of anyone else.”

  
  


“You trying to say you want something more than what we have going on?”

  
  
  


“I don’t want to pressure you into anything Rick. But to be completely honest you’re the first person I thought of tonight. I would have wanted you here with me taking care of me if Arat hadn’t been on her cruise. You’re important to me. I know I’ve got an ass way of showing it but it’s true.

  
  


“I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier. About you bothering me. That first night in the club, you let me have my space. I know you wouldn’t have pushed me if I’d just blocked your number after the Carl situation. You’ve helped me let go over these past couple months. I’d be lying if I told you it isn’t weird as hell to sneak around every time I want to see you.” Rick leans down next to the tub entwining their hands in the soapy water.

  
  


“I could take you on a real date Rick. Once I don’t feel like absolute dog shit.” Negan grins “If you wanted.” He adds. “We could go to Krispy Kreme’s and I could show you the mystical wonders of a cinnamon cruller.”

  
  


“No.” Rick answers a little firmer than necessary. Negan's face falls but then he continues. “You are not getting anywhere near donuts for at least six months. I wouldn’t be opposed to going to the movies instead. As long as we get a reasonable amount of popcorn.”

  
  


Negan reaches a wet hand out to trace Rick’s jawline, bringing their faces in close. Rick pulls away just before their lips can touch.

  
  


“No way am I kissing you with breath like that.” He jokes. “Brush your teeth and then we’ll see.”

  
  


He leaves the apartment at one AM lips still buzzing with the taste of Negan’s wintergreen toothpaste. Mind still alive with the hope of a new relationship. (He calls the babysitter from the car who it turns out has  been frantically dialing since Rick put his phone on silent.) After promising 30 extra dollars for her trouble he focuses on the road until he’s driving past the cafe he’d been at earlier. He thinks of Michonne and wonders if she’s asleep. He remembers his promise to fill her in and decides he has to go through with it. No matter how much awkward angling it will take. She picks up on the third ring.

  
  


“Michonne.” He starts once he’s sure she’s properly awake. “There’s something I have to tell you. Just promise you’ll listen all the way through before you say anything.” And so it begins.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated! :))


End file.
